For the Greater Good
by snapeisnotevil
Summary: An Autobiography of the life of the most prominent Gellert Grindelwald. He justifies his actions and gives the truth of his conquest with Albus Dumbledore.
1. Chapter 1

_I have wanted to write a fanfic for Gellert Grindelwald for a while, but until now, the story has eluded me. I hope you like it! --Snapeisnotevil_

--

Prologue

I believe it as my duty to explain my true intentions. Sitting here in the prison I once had control of, I have nothing better to occupy my time with than fighting out my case. It is unfortunate that the name of Gellert Grindelwald has become such a hated topic. I never felt the need to destroy the muggles. In fact, I had no hatred for them at all. I simply understood the importance of setting in place a system of control. Leaving such naïve beings to survive on their own is a most risky thing to do. Take for instance the witch burnings. Although it caused our kind little harm, it is a definite warning of what these muggles might possibly do in the future. It is not understood how my intentions were, in fact, for the greater good of the wizarding community. Here is my life's story. Read it, and I hope dearly that you will, in turn, come to respect my deeds and what I sacrificed.

Gellert Grindelwald

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Chapter 1

The Beginning of a Wizard

As it has been suspected, I was born into a very wealthy and respected Pure-Blood wizarding family. I was pampered and spoiled, and was grew up completely surrounded by magic. Well, not quite.

When I was born, my name was almost immediately put down for entrance into Durmstrang, a highly respected wizarding school in which the whole of my family had attended. However, as I came closer and closer to the school's admittance age, it became increasingly apparent in my lack of magical ability. I had not shown any signs of being magical at all. In fear of having produced a squib, my parents hired the most well-respected wizarding tutors they could find. By the age of nine, I was an expert in magical theory, though that seemed to be my limit.

When I was not occupied with my lessons, which seemed only rare occasions, I would immerse myself in whatever piece of literature I could find, though I had become rather particular to stories of muggles. I had heard my parents, on occasion, discuss those curious non-magical beings, but usually kept it a hushed topic when I was around. Afraid that I was doomed to a life like the muggles, I was eager to find anything I could. I began with Shakespeare, but quickly dropped that idea as I came to particularly farfetched play with witches. I quickly moved through many well-known muggle authors, but was disappointed in my findings. I could never live such a life! It then became my sole purpose to bring out even the slightest bit of magic in myself.

It was the day after my 10th birthday that I received my wish. I had spent the day before rather depressed, for my parents had given me only books rather than the many wizarding toys I had hoped for. They, by this point, had given up hope for me, though my tutoring never ceased.

The day after my dull birthday I had all but locked myself into the family library. I sat surrounded on all sides by the books I had read multiple times, but today I was not in the mood to read. I simply sat there, staring at the family portraits covering the walls not hidden by bookshelves. It wasn't long before my emotions got the better of me. I could taste the tears running down my face and felt my throat strain in protest to my screaming.

And then it happened. The books around me started to fling everywhere, but I did not touch a single one. My parents, hearing my screaming, barged through the door I had shabbily blockaded with a chair. I remember my mother running to me and my father jumping in delight. It was not as we had feared. I _was_ a wizard!

After that day, I made my new drive in life in becoming as powerful as I could. I felt I had to make up for the many years I had wasted studying muggles. I knew from then on that I would have to do something about the non-magical humans. I had lived their life and knew that they needed help, structure. They must be put under control.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Fear of Weakness

If I hadn't believed that my life had been taken over by tutoring before, there was no doubt now. My old tutors were, of course, fired as they had failed in discovering my hidden magic, but new tutors were brought to me, this time teaching me how properly to handle a wand as well as so-called "magic etiquette." I knew I would learn this all again once reaching Durmstrang, but my parents did not wish there to be any doubt that they ever feared I was a squib. With such a well-known pure-blood family, it would seem strange and suspicious if I weren't completely comfortable with magic. This did not bother me as I had already made my decision about pouring all my effort into learning magic, and so both my parents and tutors were immensely pleased. When I began school, there would be no doubt I was a Grindelwald.

And so my 11th birthday came and passed and my bags were packed to make my journey to Durmstrang. My parents explained to me I would be older than most boys in my year as typically one started at age 10, but a story was devised to excuse my year's absence. I had, during a family visit to London, come down with a rare disease (the name of which was long and hard to pronounce, and which I never fully mastered how to say) and was forced to stay at St. Mungo's hospital until I was strong enough to return home and wait for the next school year to begin. Of course, it was all a lie. We had visited London for a short while, and, after an unlucky fall, I had had to spend a couple of days at St. Mungo's due to a minor concussion, but it had been over the summer and would not have hindered my attending Durmstrang at all. A lie didn't matter, however, as long as my magic abilities were not doubted.

Upon my arrival at Durmstrang, I became the centre of attention which proved both a blessing and a curse. I grew fast as I began puberty at a young age, something my father attributed to as coming from a true pure-blood family, so I easily fit in with the older and more experienced boys. Having spent so much of my life learning magic and magical theory before beginning school, I also excelled well in the classroom, leaving less time to worry with class assignments and more time to spend on something of my choosing.

Not forgetting my promise to become as powerful as I was capable, I chose to use my extra time to immerse myself in the art of dueling. One thing I had learned from both muggle works and the writings of wizards was that the key to success was to be able to defend oneself and to have the ability to strike fear in your enemies, those who oppose your ideas and beliefs. To hold another person's life in your hands, to be able to snuff out their existence at your will, never failed in gaining yourself respect.

I soon proved this true as knowledge of my dueling skill traveled around the school. I could no longer find more than a moment's peace when no one was trying to gain their way into my favor or an older student was determined to prove his skill against mine. To protect myself from any dangerous alliances, I cut myself off socially from everybody else. I allowed a few select others to follow me around if I found any skill in them I favored, but I did not consider them "friends." Friends were a weakness and I feared being weak. I knew what it felt to be powerless, and I would not allow anything to cause such a situation again.

As my reputation of being almost a social recluse became general knowledge to all the students and staff, rumors did not find themselves blocked from spreading around the school as to what had made me prefer such a life. Speculations were made as to what I intended to do with my life, some as ridiculous as to suppose my life's dream was to become a world famous dragon wrestler (I stopped this ridiculous rumor myself at dinner one night, stating that I would be kind enough to leave the position of 'World Famous Dragon Wrestler' to any idiot who so felt the need to become suicidal). With my determined attitude, though, many a professor had pulled me aside to suggest my considering of a political job. I declined this idea early on, making it clear that if I felt something needed reforming, I would not waste my time gaining the support of the people and sitting behind a desk as others did the work for me.

The many career suggestions I was given, though nearly all declined, did begin to make me consider what I wished to do with my life. My power and status I had gained so far through the many families of my classmates would be all in vain if I did not discover a way to put them to use. Thus, I recalled what I had replied to the suggestions of a political career, and decided to try and reform what I felt was most important. Muggle freedom. I had been desperate enough before without my own magic; to consider a whole group of people in such a state nearly sickened me. Wizard control was necessary for the well-being of both muggles and wizards. I would be a fool to allow the current situation to continue.


	3. Chapter 3

_I must apologize for my total failure at life. How long has it been since I last updated this story? Forever! -begs forgiveness- Really, I'll try my hardest not to let that happen again. I was a little stuck on how far this chapter should go. I think it worked out nicely, though. So, for my terrible awfulness to y'all, this chapter is longer than the others =D_

_~Snapeisnotevil_

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Chapter 3

Expulsion

Looking back now, I regret what I did that day during my fifth year. I was a fool. But I was Gellert Grindelwald, the great king of Durmstrang, and surely nothing I did would be foolish. I was wrong. Yet, how would my life have been different if I had not committed that first act of murder that day in May?

***

The school year was coming to a close. As the end of year exams loomed ahead, it seemed every armchair and couch in the school was occupied by students sprawled out with every known school book piled beside or on top of them. The library was one impenetrable crowd of people ready to rip off any visitors head should they interrupt the studying. I, unfortunately, was a victim of these crazed students.

Being Gellert Grindelwald, studying for such easy exams was below me. I was unphased by the teachers' threats of impossibly hard questions and believed that pouring over a textbook I had already read through twice was certainly a waste of my time. However, the library was where I needed to be.

Some weeks previous during a particularly intriguing class of History of Magic, the professor had mentioned a legend of three brothers who sought to cheat death; The Legend of the Deathly Hallows the professor called it. I can't exactly say why it intrigued me so deeply as I had never truly feared death, but the thought of controlling my own death seemed to be the first step to gaining power for myself. It was purely logic; if I could not be killed, then what was there to fear?

So, naturally, it became my new goal to learn as much about the Deathly Hallows as I could, which was why the school library became my new home. I looked for weeks through book after book, finding nothing more than the symbol used by other seekers like myself – a sort of triangular eye with a line running from the top point to the base, splitting the circular pupil in half – but nowhere could I find an explanation to the symbol, nothing saying what the shapes represented or why it was used. It was almost as if the topic of the Deathly Hallows was not meant for a civil mind, as if cheating death was somehow immoral and not worthy for books in a school library. It angered me that anyone dared to censor what I learned about. Which is why, on that fateful day in May, I let out an exclamation of joy as I found a full account of the legend in an old copy of The Tales of Beedle the Bard.

My cry sent grumbling throughout the library, but as it was I who had dared to disturb the tense atmosphere, the crime was ignored. Ignored by everyone except Erik, the muggle-born.

Erik was the soul muggle-born student at Durmstrang. Traditionally a school for only the purest of blood, it was a mystery as to how he gained entrance, though most suspected it to be due to the dying race of pureblood wizards. Erik was an experiment; a test to see if his kind could survive at the school. He failed.

Being the odd one out, Erik had learned not to give in to the constant bullying he was a victim to, and after a while he had gained a reputation similar to mine that he was not to be messed with. To this I will applaud him. His dueling skills were exceptional as he had to implement them so often and he had a sharp tongue which never ceased to surprise his enemies. I, however, did not allow my surprise to overcome me as he reprimanded me for my apparent "obnoxiously loud and clearly immature" cry of joy.

I can't recall ever being quite as angry as I was at that moment. Who was he, a muggle-born no less, to reprimand me, a member of a highly respected and powerful pureblood family? Had his muggle parents been so incompetent as to teach him to respect those above him? I was enraged! I had finally found a vital clue to the Deathly Hallows, and this _fool_ was stupid enough to interrupt _my_ studying.

My wand was outstretched in front of me in a flash, and Erik was not long to follow my example. Within seconds, the air between us was a mess of colored sparks as we shot spell after spell toward the other. There was no doubt that Erik was competent, but the idiot had not yet mastered nonverbal spells. With the second of warning before each trail of sparks hit me, I was easily able to deflect his efforts, but he was only barely able to avoid my own magic. It was merely luck that kept him standing for as long as he did, but soon his luck drained out and a fountain of blue sparks hit him square in the chest. I remember it in slow motion how he was forced into the air and then back, flipping as he flew, towards one of the many study tables scattered between the bookshelves. Now, fully upside down, his head made contact with the edge of the table, his neck bending sideways as his body continued its path through the air. The room was deathly quiet as Erik's limp body made a dull thud as it hit the stone floor. I moved toward him and watched for a moment as blood flowed freely from a large gash on the dead boys forehead, then, laughing as I did so, I lifted my foot, placed it on the boys face, and pressed down firmly until I heard the satisfying crunch as the bones gave way. To think that anyone had ever questioned my authority at this school! I was now truly a king; I had taken away the most important possession of this boy – his life! The feeling was exhilarating.

I could feel all the eyes on me as I went to retrieve the children's book I had found and then left the library without even bother to check it out. Truth was, all the staring slightly innerved me, and I knew I could study the book better if I was alone.

My wish was granted. I brought the book to my dormitory and was not disturbed the whole night. The beds around me stayed vacant, and in the morning I was able to walk down to breakfast completely alone. I sat off by myself with my book propped up in front of my plate and stared helplessly at it as I chewed on a bit of toast. There was a problem with the book – it was written in ancient runes. I had learned once about the runes, but having found it pointless and unlikely that I would ever use the knowledge, I had payed little attention to the lessons. I cursed myself for my stupidity for I could only decipher small portions of the strange symbols.

As I sat and stared at the foreign scribbling, a note was brought to me by one of the professors. The writing was small but much easier to read than the runes, and I can clearly remember what it said:

'Gellert Grindelwald,

You have been summoned to the Headmaster's office due to the events yesterday evening. You are to arrive at nine o'clock. Dress appropriately.

~Amelia Khachaturian

Secretary to the Headmaster

Durmstrang Wizarding School'

Durmstrang was always so very formal. The note was written on decorated parchment and the signature was written with an air of unrivaled importance. The look of the note seemed fit to be sent to a king. I was pleased.

I finished eating and took my book back to my dormitory. It was already ten 'till nine, so I quickly changed into my dress robes and hurried to the Headmaster's office. Anything with the Headmaster was a formal occasion and to be late was possibly more dangerous than dragon wrestling.

As I waited to be given entrance to the office by Amelia the secretary, I must admit that my nerves began to get the better of me. It was a problem I had. If I wasn't in control of a situation, it frightened me and I was easy to break down; just like the day after my 10th birthday when I gave up all hope on magic. I felt the tears hot at my eyes, but quickly flicked them away. I was a Grindelwald, so there was no way the Headmaster would dare turn me in for murder.

The door was opened and I was ushered inside. Father and the Headmaster stared unblinkingly as I bowed and took my seat in front of the massive, oaken desk; Mother had been to heart-broken to come. I listened, blank-faced, as I was berated for my vicious actions and that the school could not allow such behavior. The tears burned again, but I could not stop them.

Eventually it was decided that I was to stay at the school until the end of term in one week's time. I would take my exams with the rest of my classmates and would return home with them as well. I was to kindly not turn up at school next year, nor any years following. **Expelled**.

I took the news with my mind numb. Father explained later that since the muggle-born's murder was considered inevitable in a school of purebloods, the school agreed to do nothing more than expel me. It was a personal favor to my father that I was allowed to stay until the end of term. To have me leave early would be an embarrassment to the Grindelwald family name.

I went through my exams without answering a single question. What was the point? My mind was more occupied elsewhere and on more important matters. My thoughts flitted between the book I had given up on reading, though I didn't plan to return it to the library, and what I would do without school. The truth was I was honestly more concerned with the Deathly Hallows. I knew more than most of the advanced upper level students, and Durmstrang seemed to have nothing left to offer me. My family was extraordinarily wealthy, so a job was not a necessity, and not being held hostage at a school meant more freedom to do as I pleased. Yes, I was certainly more worried with the fact I could not read ancient runes.

I found myself subconsciously carving the Deathly Hallows' symbol into the different desks I sat at as I waited for the end of school. Four days…two days…finally my belongings were packed and loaded on the ship ready to take the students off to the train station some way off in the distance. Soon I would be home and things would be the same as they had always been. Mother and Father would hire more tutors and a visit to a few high ministry officials with gold in our hands would allow me to keep my wand.

It was all for the best, I thought, my getting expelled. My plans for the muggles which I had almost forgotten in the frenzy of legend seeking, I could now put to the front of my mind. What was to distract me now? Yes, it was all going in my favor.

***

These were my beginnings. Some consider this point the start of my insanity, others the first signs of over ambition. But me? I don't know what to think. The muggle-born's death had been necessary to my later gain in great power, I have no doubt, but yet I still wonder occasionally if there had been another way.

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_Reviews are amazing and remind me to keep writing, so if you like it so far, please let me know! And I suppose if you hate it, you can tell me as well, haha. I'll have chapter 4 up soon! Godric's Hallow ^^_


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